


Mine

by Raindropblue



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Good Harry Potter, M/M, Manipulative Tom Riddle, Not Epilogue Compliant, One Sided Attraction, Possessive Tom Riddle, Rape/Non-con Elements, Time Travel Fix-It, Unrequited Love, Well attempt at fixing it by Harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:26:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22935544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raindropblue/pseuds/Raindropblue
Summary: Tom pinned Harry's wrists to the wall beside his head, the wizard immediately beginning to struggle to get out of his grip, squirming and arching against his unrelenting strength. Tom didn't want to hurt Harry, he loved him. He had always loved him, ever since he was a little boy and had laid eyes on the beautiful man that had come to rescue him from the miserable conditions of the orphanage. Giving him a warm meal, a warm bed, and a place within the warmth of his arms. But now Tom wanted that warmth and Harry forever, and he would do anything to keep him.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle
Comments: 71
Kudos: 653
Collections: Harrymort/Tomarry Recs for the Soul, Top-tier HP/TMR Fics, did someone say time travel, voldemort is my past present and future





	1. Chapter 1

Tom is three, he has heard that he is small for his age, the women who work there say that, as do the couples that occasionally come to the orphanage to look for a child to adopt. Acting as though they are browsing through the merchandise of a store as they make comments, and inspect the children, turning their faces this way and that, grabbing their hands to check their nails. Pulling down their chins to get a look at their teeth. 

They all seem to find him pleasing to look at, they say he has lovely features and big eyes, but a sallow, gaunt look to him that keeps them from adopting him. Tom thinks he has that look because he is not given enough to eat, the older boys have taken to stealing his dinner roll ever since the nurses stopped hand feeding him. He used to lie awake at night due to the hunger, and that made dark circles appear beneath his eyes that made a woman say he looked possessed, and so he learned to roll up in on himself until the hunger wasn't so pressing and he would fall asleep easily. The dark circles went away, but still no one expressed any interest in him. 

Tom does not get along with the other children. At first they did not like him because he was a baby, and the couples that came in always cooed over the babies, giving them toys, or treats if old enough. Now it is as though they have made a habit of disliking him. Tom sits alone against the wall watching the other kids play together. The kids split up into groups of the same gender, organized by age. 

The girls like to play house with dolls and using their imaginations, clap games, and they talk. Tom imagines house is a terrible game to play, the nurses seem to hate doing the chores and often complain about them to one another. The clap games look as though they would hurt your hands from the repeated slapping, and the songs they sing in their high-pitched whiny voices are irritating and most likely hard to remember. 

Tom doesn't understand how they have so much to talk about, every day in their lives is the exact same. Wake up, wash your face, change your clothes, sit on your knees in front of a statue of a man suspended on a cross and pray to him. Have watery porridge for breakfast with a little circle of sugar in the center on some days. Other boys usually scoop it off his porridge when he has it so Tom prefers not to, that way their dirty spoons stay out of his porridge. They are then split up by age, Tom in the youngest group who are read to, while the older ones scratch words, sentences, and answers to math problems into the dirt while they can or share one small chalkboard when the ground freezes. They are then given a small lunch to hold them over until dinner, a bit of bread and cheese or some fruit. They are let out to play then until dinner which consists of his always stolen dinner roll and some sort of watery stew, or on bad days mashed beans. After dinner they are told to get changed into pajamas and go to bed, candles are to be blown out fifteen minutes after they are sent to bed. 

Tom has nothing to talk about, even if someone were to speak to him daily, he would have nothing to say. Perhaps that is why no one takes him out of here, because he does not chatter like the other children. 

The boys like to play around with the few battered footballs and tennis balls they have, or wrestle with one another. Some of the older ones spend some time staring at the girls but rarely approach them. Their methods of play too different for Tom to be able to understand why they would want to. Tom does not understand why the boys will sometimes begin to cheer as they pass around the balls, or why they will become enraged, towering over others and yelling angrily the way they sometimes do to him. The wrestling looks like it hurts, and it gives them bruises and ruins their clothing making it less likely someone will pick them. 

Tom does not wish to do any of those activities and yet he continues to watch them every single day. One of the nurses even gave him permission to borrow some of the books or a tennis ball, but Tom still watches them. He takes the books on occasion but reads them at night instead, getting changed very quick so he can lay in his bed and look at the words and pictures that are on the pages. Sometimes Tom can even make them dance, those are his favorite nights. When he makes the pictures do as he pleases, the words he cannot make out disappearing off the pages entirely. 

Tom wishes he could make the other children dance around the way he can the pictures in the book. How much more interesting they would be as puppets. Tom had once been given a puppet by a visitor, but an older boy had ripped it to shreds when he found it. Saying only girls played with dolls, angered when Tom corrected him, saying it was a puppet not a doll. Tom had gotten his first bruise that day, it was big and purple, and on his cheek. The visitor had winced when she saw it, but said nothing. It soon faded, becoming an ugly yellow before it went away entirely, leaving the skin blank and pale as before, but not taking with it the memory of being hit. After that Tom often had a bruise. 

The other boys would hit him when he would tell them they could not take his food, they would hit him when he read words they couldn't, and they would hit him when grownups said he was adorable. 

Tom wasn't sure what the word meant exactly, but it was bad because it would make others hit him, even if it was said cooingly. Not everything said in a coo was good, sometime the boys cooed at him mockingly, perhaps the grownups were mocking him too. Tom hated not knowing things, but no one answered his questions, from some of the women he would get exasperated sighs, and others would tell him to shut it so he learned to stop asking but never to stop wondering. 

Tom wanted to know what adorable meant exactly, he wanted to know what the sugar on the porridge tasted like. He wanted to know why the other children didn't like him, why they ignored or mocked him. He wanted to know why he was in the orphanage, he had heard from an older boy that his mom was a whore. He wondered what a whore was, and why the whore had left him here. Why she wasn't here with him. He wondered why none of the couples ever decided to take him with them like he had seen them take other children. Tom wondered what was inside the statue of the hanging man they prayed to that made it so powerful. He looked to be in quite a predicament himself so how was he going to protect them and grant their wishes. Tom wondered why none of his wishes ever came true. Tom wondered if they ever would. Tom wondered if he would ever get out of here. Most of the women who worked here had started off like him, abandoned children in the orphanage and they had never gotten out. One of the older girls said they might become like those women.

Tom did not want to stay here forever. He fantasized that one day he would get out and explore the lush green lands in his books. Just him and the wilderness. Maybe he would learn to make the leaves dance for him. No one would hurt him there, no one would sneer at him, spit at him, or inspect him. He would be free to wander. He had once told the only nurse he liked there about these fantasies of his and she had asked if he would be lonely. Tom thought maybe he would, but people didn't seem to like him so he was better off wandering these lands alone.


	2. Chapter 2

Tom is four. He has learned to write his full name and a few other small words. He practices relentlessly, using his finger to carve it into the dirt as he watches the other children play. He likes seeing his name carved in the dirt on the ground. He carves it there even when doing so means he has to push his fingers through the damp, near frozen ground. It is a sign that he is there, that he is alive, it is a sign that he has ever been there. Tom thinks it may be the only one. 

Tom has also learned that if you want to keep your blanket on cold nights you have to hide it behind the wash basin until all the other children are asleep, and then creep out of the room to get it. It took cold nights of shivering until his teeth chattered so loudly one of the older boys had thrown their coat on him just to shut him up to learn this. His fingernails had been blue when he had woken and the nurses had realized what was happening and given him another blanket which he hid every night, and a stern talking to the other boys. That resulted in Tom getting more bruises so he'd rather they didn't. 

Tom had also learned that whore was a bad word. A man and woman had been interested in adopting him, they hadn't even checked his teeth before the woman had scooped him up out of the line of children. She had held him from beneath his arms awkwardly and it had hurt but Tom stayed quiet, staring at her with his big eyes until she put him down. 

They had asked the nurses to speak with him alone, and he had answered all their questions politely, remembering not to ask them about their home because the nurses had told the children it was rude to do so. Everything seemed to be going well until they had asked about his parents, he had told them his mother was a whore and their eyes widened, the woman sputtering for a moment before making an affronted noise. The man had looked as though he wanted to laugh but the woman had stormed out saying she did not want children who spoke in such a foul manner. 

A nurse had asked him what he had done but Tom just shook his head, walking slowly to his room even as the other children mocked him for being rejected. Tom stayed in his bed all that day and the nurses let him, he kept his blanket tucked tightly around him and stared at the low wall above his head. No one came to call him for dinner, and he didn't feel hungry anyway. 

He didn't even move when the other boys filed in, not even when two of them came and demanded he give them his blanket. He stared straight at the ceiling as they threatened to beat him up, and even when they reached for the blanket. They screeched loudly in pain when they touched the thin ratty material. Tom looked at them then, wondering why they were screaming and backing away calling him a freak. Their palms were red as though they had touched a hot kettle and for the first time they looked at Tom with something other than disdain or disinterest. They looked at him with fear. That was certainly new and Tom found he liked it better. 

For the next few weeks despite how cold the nights became, no one tried to steal his blankets and so Tom stopped hiding them. They continued to steal his sugar and dinner rolls though. Continued pushing him when they formed lines to go outside or inside, hitting him if he responded to their taunts. Tom wished he could make his own body so hot that he would burn anyone who tried to touch him, could grab their dirty hands when they reached for his food and burn them so badly they'd scream and moan all night. Then they would stop tormenting him and leave him alone. 

It was in the autumn of his fourth year when he came. Tom had woken up like any other day, they were told to wash up nicely because someone was coming in to look at them. They skipped praying that day so they could eat before the people came. Tom wished they could skip praying every day. It wasn't as though it did anything, he was still here and the others were still stealing his food and hitting him. 

There was no sugar on their porridge that day so he was left alone at breakfast. But he was shoved so hard when they were lining up to go outside that he fell and ripped the knee of his trousers. The skin underneath red and irritated upon coming into contact with the hard ground. Tom wished his trousers hadn't ripped, these were his best ones. 

A nurse having seen the boy push him, twisted the boy's ear for it, and the boy looked at him with promises to do much worse filling his cold blue eyes. The nurse scolded him for ruining Tom's clothes, and asked Tom to change but Tom refused, it wasn't as though anyone was going to pick him anyway. It didn't matter how presentable he looked, they would see beyond it to the pale, gaunt boy beneath and refuse to take him. Choosing a child with golden hair and cheeks that reddened endearingly when pinched instead.

Tom stood amongst the others, waiting for the new couple to come in, his eyes downcast seeing only their feet in his line of vision. There were the worn black flats of the nurse who led him in, and black polished dress shoes that looked as though they had only been bought today from their pristine condition. There were no heels or polished flats accompany the dress shoes and Tom looked up in wonder. 

A man stood there, a man dressed more finely than anyone who had ever come to the orphanage before. He wore black finely pressed dress pants, with a white shirt underneath with a collar so starched it stood stiff and proud at the base of his throat, buttoned all the way up. He wore a light grey vest over top that tightened the shirt to him and showed the man was thin, but unlike other thin men Tom had seen, he looked strong. As though he could toss even the older boys into the air and catch them the way Tom had seen a couple toss one of the newly adopted girls. Her ear-piercing giggle being heard even as they walked out the gates of the orphanage. 

The man had a strong thin jaw, deep pink near red lips that weren't chapped as everyone here at the orphanage's were, a nose that looked slightly crooked the way another boy's had when he had broken it even after it was fixed. But it was his eyes that made Tom stare transfixed. They were framed by black rimmed glasses but even with those blocking them Tom could see they shined like the big rocks on the rings of the women who came in to see them. Green like the lush leaves of the lands in his books he fantasized of exploring. Shining so brightly and surveying everything they could see with such keen intensity. 

The eyes trailed over the children slowly until they landed on him. A jolt of something Tom had never felt before shooting down his spine as the eyes gazed intently at him. It was sharp like the fear Tom had felt when one of the boys had dangled him off a tree for telling on them, but pleasant. Pleasant like the sweet tartness of grapes on his tongue. 

The man walked towards him and Tom straightened, wishing he had heeded the nurse's advice and changed his trousers. But something told him this man would see beyond any pretenses. Those eyes would see beyond what he looked like, but Tom didn't know if that was a good thing. Tom didn't know if what was underneath was any better than what was outside. 

The man was now before him, crouched down with one knee on the ground, his actions unfitting of a man dressed so finely but he didn't seem to care that his trousers would get dirty. Tom's heart thundered away in his chest at the proximity.

"Hello, my name is Harry Potter." The man said, Tom could hear the effort the man was making to gentle his tone. He had a pleasant voice. It sounded warm and heady like the thick spicy stew they were given on Christmas as a treat. It warmed Tom to his very core. 

The man held his hand out for Tom to shake, and Tom placed his hand in the man's, his large tan hand dwarfing Tom's small pale one, engulfing it entirely within his warm grasp. The man had gentle hands, even though the skin was a little roughened. 

"What's your name little one?" The man asked kindly, a small smile on his face and he lowered his head to be more at eye level with Tom as he spoke. 

"Tom Riddle." Tom answered, caught in that green gaze, completely unaware of the jealous looks he was receiving for having caught the attention of a man so clearly wealthy. 

"What happened to your leg Tom?" The man asked cupping Tom's knee with one of his large hands, thumb rubbing over the bruised skin gently. 

Tom knew he shouldn't tell the truth, if he did the man would think they were rowdy ill-mannered children and he would leave. And so he lied, telling the man he fell, staring straight into those green eyes as he spoke so that his lie wouldn't be caught. But somehow it seemed the man knew better because he raised a brow skeptically at that. A sour taste filled Tom's mouth at the look. He said nothing more of it though, so Tom assumed he had gotten away with lying.

"May I speak to you alone Tom?" The man asked, and it took Tom a moment to respond, caught in that green gaze again, and not used to anyone asking for his permission. The men would usually just nod or point at the children their wives were fawning over and the nurse would grab the chosen one's hand and lead them to the room in which they would be further examined by the couple. 

"Yes." Tom answered, the man smiled in response, rising up from his knee, and holding a hand out for Tom to take. Tom placed his hand within the man's after another glance up at his eyes, the nurse leading the pair back into the building.

Tom sat down on the chair, leaving the couch for the man to take as they were supposed to. The nurse told them she would be just outside, and with a glance at Tom that was more of a reprimand to behave than it was a reassurance of her presence, she left them alone. Tom barely took any notice of her, unable to tear his eyes away from the green pair of the man sitting before him.

The man seemed to have a presence that was much larger than him, it took over the room, Tom felt surrounded by him, but Tom liked it. The man's presence felt a bit like that of the summer sun. Blazing and heated, warming you down to your toes, and impossible to ignore. 

"You may ask me anything you like Tom, I promise to answer as honestly as I can." The man said making Tom look up at him with a little furrow between his brows, the look of confusion making the boy look much more his age than the somber neutral way he held his face did. 

"What do you do Mr.Potter?" Tom asked carefully, remembering quite well they were not allowed to ask questions, but all too curious about the man sitting before him to resist. 

"I am a writer, I write books." Harry answered. Tom wondered if that was why the look in his eyes was so striking compared to the dull look most others had. He had always imagined the writers of his favorite books to be brilliant people.

"What kind of books?"

"Fantasy books, about made up places, and magic. About creatures you could only see in your wildest dreams, and abilities no normal person can possess." 

"That sounds silly." Tom said, feeling his insides turn to ice as he realized what he had let slip out. You could never be mean to anyone that wanted to adopt you, they would think you were a mean-spirited toughened child and refuse to adopt you. 

Harry only laughed though, a warm timbering sound that forced Tom to relax, discarding all his nonsense worries. 

"I suppose it does, it's okay to be a little silly though, at least I think it is."

Tom simply stared at the man, not knowing whether to agree even if he didn't truly agree with what the man had said. The other children were silly, engaged in silly games and talk that made no sense to Tom, he didn't think it was okay to do that. The man wasn't as serious as his attire made him seem, Tom wondered if that was a good thing.

"How old are you Tom?" The man asked. 

"Four." Tom answered, ready for the comment that he looked younger that he always got. Surprised when Mr.Potter only nodded.

"Is your knee still hurting?" Harry asked.

"A bit." Tom answered truthfully, no matter how many bruises he had gotten, somehow he never got used to the pain. 

"May I?" Harry asked, getting up and coming to kneel in front of Tom, one hand outreached just shy of Tom's knee as he waited for permission. 

Tom nodded and watched carefully as the man cupped his knee within his hand, rubbing his thumb just along the bruise. It took Tom a moment to realize what he had done, but as he looked down to his knee he could see the skin was pale again, rid of all the swelling, and more importantly the pain. 

"How did you-?" Tom asked, not knowing how to even phrase what the man had done to him. He looked up to see the man was already looking at him, a kind but secretive smile on his face. 

"Would you like to see something else?" Harry asked, and Tom nodded immediately. 

Harry grabbed one of Tom's hands from his lap, gently uncurling it so his palm was facing up and then rested it on his own open hand. He murmured something lowly and then there were little colorful phantom birds in Tom's hand. Green, red, blue and yellow. A little family of them, flying in a circle around his palm, rising up higher and higher until Tom had to crane his neck just to look at them. They flew back down and Tom tried to close his hand around them as they landed on his open palm, only for them to disappear as fast as they had appeared. Leaving his palm empty. 

Tom had never seen anything as lovely as that little display. He stared at his empty palm for a moment longer, hoping they would reappear. When they didn't he glanced up at Harry to see him watching him with a soft smile. That sight even more bewildering than that of the birds that had appeared out of nowhere. No one had ever looked at Tom that way, as though he had somehow brought them joy. As though just looking at him made them happy.

"It's magic." Harry said, breaking the wonder filled moment of silence between them. 

"It's wonderful." Tom said, unable to contain himself.

"Can you do other things?" Tom asked, and Harry nodded. 

"You can do things too, can't you Tom?" He asked and Tom stared wide eyed at the man before him, the light sense of wonder gone and leaving a heavyset apprehension behind. Tom watched Harry carefully, wondering how he would react if he were to come to know of the strange things Tom could do. Would he be impressed or upset?

"I can make the pictures of my books dance around." Tom admitted after a moment, finding himself wanting to take the chance. He had never told a single living soul of this, never done it where anyone could see and yet here he was telling a man he had only known for a few moments. 

"That sounds lovely." Harry responded, smiling so wide he looked as though he might be laughing a little. It wasn't the cruel mocking way most of the boys laughed at Tom. It seemed Harry was overcome with joy hearing about Tom's abilities. 

"Anything else?" He asked, eyes brighter than ever with his smile. Tom drew back immediately, never having realized he had begun to lean towards the man. He wouldn't be smiling if he knew Tom was capable of hurting others. Adults didn't like cruel children. They wanted innocent angels and Tom wanted desperately for Harry to want him.

"Well even moving pictures is very impressive. I do hope you'll show me one day." 

Tom was relieved Harry hadn't pressed to know about his other capabilities, but his heart sunk at the mention of one day. Anyone who came and spoke of doing things one day meant they had no intention of adopting him. They may return and spend time with him, or perhaps disappear never to return, but those words made it clear they had decided not to take him home. 

Tom willed for his chin not to wobble as he felt his eyes begin to sting. He had never cried over someone not choosing him before. In fact he rarely cried at all. Only when the pain from when a boy had struck him was too unbearable did his eyes well up, but the mere thought of perhaps never seeing those green eyes again made something within him ache more than a bruise ever had. He bit the inside of his cheek but stared into those eyes, trying to commit them to memory. Even if Harry Potter had done nothing for him, Tom wanted to remember him. Remember the brilliant blaze of his presence and the lush green of his eyes. 

"Are you alright little one?" Harry asked, smile falling and brows furrowing as he frowned. He reached out but stopped himself with his hand just shy of Tom's shoulder. Tom stared silently at him, not wanting to open his mouth, or move in anyway at all that could make him lose control over himself and erupt into tears. He wouldn't cry in front of this Harry Potter who didn't want him. Brilliant warm Harry Potter who saw Tom for the gaunt, cold boy he was and declared false empty intentions to return to spend time with him one day. 

"I'm terribly sorry if I've upset you Tom. That wasn't my intention. You don't have to show me your magic if you don't want to, or even see me again, if you don't want to."

Tom stayed silent even though he could see Harry wanted him to speak. To lessen his guilt for making Tom upset but Tom couldn't move a single muscle or the storm of anger and sadness whirling within would come pouring out. 

"Should I call in the nurse?" Harry asked, not waiting for a response before getting up to make his way to the door. 

"Wait." Tom called, his voice sounding like the croak of a frog as he spoke through the lump in his throat. The man seemed to have understood it just fine as he stilled immediately. He turned back towards Tom, staring down at him looking incredibly confused but patient even as Tom simply stared back. He had nothing to say, he just didn't want the man to go. Not yet. 

"What is it Tom?" Harry asked, crouching down before him, gently taking one of his tiny hands between both of his. Beseeching him with the very eyes that had Tom reluctant to let him go, to speak. Harry waited, gently rubbing his hand over top of Tom's warming the skin and making Tom feel even closer to crying.

"I was going to ask if you'd like to come live with me but I've upset you so that I feel I no longer have the right." Harry said after a moment of silence.

Tom's heart skipped a beat as he registered the words. A tear falling down his cheek even as he stayed unmoving, vision becoming blurry as his eyes brimmed with burning hot tears. 

"I've made you cry." Harry said sounding genuinely upset at the very idea. He reached up and brushed the tear off Tom's soft cheek with the gentlest brush of the pad of his index finger. The skin there rough but the touch feeling nice regardless. 

"I want to come live with you." Tom said, blinking the tears out of his eyes, wiping at them with his own small hands as Harry's fell back down at the confession. 

"Y-you would?" Harry asked, sounding highly doubtful. Tom nodded furiously and Harry's skeptical expression melted away to a bright smile. 

"I'm glad Tom. I promise I'll do my very best to make you happy." Harry caught his hands and squeezed them gently in his own before letting go to get up from his crouch. He extended a hand to Tom to help him up and Tom slipped his hand within the large warm palm immediately. His heart pounding in his chest as he tried to process what had happened. 

Harry Potter wanted Tom. He chose Tom over all the other children. Even though he is too small for his age, and pale, and gaunt, and doesn't talk as much, Harry wanted Tom to come live with him. 

Tom tightened his grip on Harry's hand as he stood beside him. Harry looking down at him with a quick smile even as he spoke to the nurse and Tom knew then, he would do all he could to never have to let go of that hand.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry watched the boy sitting across from him from atop the rim of his teacup as he took a deep sip. The boy lifted the glass of milk before him carefully with both of his tiny hands and drank down nearly half the tall glass in one go. Not complaining about having to drink milk the way children often did. Come to think of it, the boy hadn't fussed at all about anything over dinner last night or breakfast this morning. 

It was the second time in these 24 hours that Tom had reminded Harry of himself. As a child having often being punished through starvation for things he now knew to be out of his control, Harry too had never fussed over food. Even at Hogwarts although Harry had preferences, often enough he simply ate what was closest to him. Unlike Hermione and Ron who were much pickier, sometime searching the entire Gryffindor table to find the things they liked. 

The first time it had happened was the very moment he had laid eyes on the boy. Standing there with his eyes downcast and the knee of his trousers that were a bit too large for his scrawny frame torn exposing a painful looking bruise, he had reminded Harry of the time when he was living with his aunt's family. He had worn his cousin's clothing that was too big for him and was often covered in bruises given by aforementioned cousin. Perhaps that was what had softened him towards the boy. 

Standing there, with a badly bruised knee and being one of the smallest among the children, Tom Riddle had looked so very far from Lord Voldemort that Harry couldn't bear to treat him as he would the dark wizard. He couldn't even think of him as the same person. 

These past four years after the war Harry had done a lot of thinking. Sitting at home, he had little else to do. After the war he had tried joining the auror force with Ron, but realized that it reminded him too much of all he had tried to escape during his childhood. He had quit just two weeks in, and devoted much more time to raising his godson, letting him live with Andromeda though since he didn't have the confidence in himself that Remus and Tonks had in him to raise their son. 

He had spent most of his free time either with Teddy, or renovating Grimmauld Place until Walburga Black had screamed herself hoarse in her portrait about the filthy half-blood wrecking her house but Harry could tell Sirius would have liked it. In between he would visit his friends. They all had managed to find jobs that they loved and had little time for him, so despite trying to keep busy he still had time to let his mind wander. Allowing his thoughts free reign was a terrifying prospect for a grief ridden individual that had just barely made it though a war. But even through the grief he had found some clarity. Found a way to think about the dark wizard that had caused it all without feeling burning resentment. All that thinking had led Harry to where he sat now, intending to devote just as much of his time to Tom as Voldemort had taken from him, 17 years. 

Harry would raise this boy, support him, try his best to turn him into something better than the power hungry lunatic he had become, and then return to his own time.

Harry summoned the carton of milk wandlessly and it poured its contents into the now nearly empty glass in front of the boy that watched it with wide curious brown eyes. Strangely enough Harry found that the boy's eyes were very pretty. A warm bright chocolate brown unlike the endless hungry crimson of the creature Harry had known. If Harry had his way these eyes would remain that warm brown. 

"Eat up. Once you're done we'll head out to get you some stuff. You need some warmer clothing for the winter and while we're out we can even get you some books." Harry said, remembering the boy mentioning his hobby of reading, and the way his eyes had brightened at the sight of the library in his home. Harry would take Tom to a toy store as well. He could still very clearly remember the childish wonder that had filled Tom's eyes at the birds Harry had conjured for him. He would probably enjoy playing with toys. 

Tom quickly finished up his scrambled eggs, and the bite of toast slathered with jam in his plate. Chasing it down with the milk, and finally looking up with a tiny milk mustache on his upper lip. Harry pressed his lips together to keep from smiling. 

Tom Riddle was unsurprisingly a very cute child. Harry remembered how good looking the boy had been in Dumbledore's memories, and the handsome horcrux of the 16 year old Tom Riddle in the diary. For now he had eyes that were a bit large for his childishly rounded face but that seemed to add to his cuteness rather than take away from it. Pale blemish-free skin, a small straight nose and a tiny light pink rosebud mouth. Harry thought Teddy was absolutely adorable, and had seen Fleur and Bill's part veela baby, but if he was being honest, Tom was the cutest child he had ever seen.

He bit his lip and looked down a moment at the thought of the tantrum his godson would throw if he were to be told Harry found someone else cuter than him. Teddy was the sweetest little thing, but not very good at sharing, not his toys and definitely not his Hawwy. Harry didn't know how he would spend these 17 years without his godson, but if this was the price he would pay so that Teddy could have a better chance at growing up with his parents, then so be it.

"You've got a little something." Harry said pointing at his own upper lip as he carefully leaned forwards, grabbing his napkin from his lap to wipe at the boy's upper lip gently. Tom stared up at him with his big eyes even as Harry settled back down. 

The boy admittedly was slightly unnerving in the way he stared. It was one of the things that set him apart from other children his age. Children that young were rarely so attentive as to stare at someone for too long, but Tom had stared at Harry intently every time he had been in the same room as him. Harry hoped he would eventually lose interest in whatever he was so intrigued by. He hoped it wasn't because the boy was still trying to figure out if Harry meant him any harm. He truly didn't. He had surprised even himself when he felt no urge to hurt this Tom Riddle despite knowing all he could grow up to do. It was true, to Harry Voldemort was a whole other entity than this boy. This boy sitting before him was his ward, and he would treat him as such.

"Will you need help getting changed?" Harry asked, even though last night Tom had gotten changed into his pajamas without any help from Harry. He grabbed their plates and glasses with him to take to the sink as he got up. He dumped the dishes in the sink and set them to wash themselves using one of the housework spells Molly had taught him. He wondered why there weren't classes about such things at Hogwarts. Where were muggleborn children supposed to learn these spells?

"No." Tom responded, having to jump to get off the chair he was sat in. He made his way towards Harry, eyes set on the sink that was much too high for him to reach by himself. 

Harry grabbed the boy up by his waist, trying to hold back a wince at the ribs he could clearly feel under Tom's pajama shirt. He held him up with ease as Tom washed his hands. Despite being the same age, Tom weighed half of how much Teddy did, and was nearly half a foot shorter. Admittedly Teddy was tall for his age, given both his parents, Remus in particular had been tall, but Tom was definitely smaller than he should be at 4. The Tom Riddle Harry had seen in memories was a tall teenager. If Harry fed Tom well, he would hopefully catch up to where he should be soon enough. 

He set Tom down gently, forcing a smile as the boy mumbled a quiet "thank you." 

Harry made a mental list of all the things they would need to buy. He wanted to replace Tom's wardrobe entirely, Harry would sooner shrink his own clothes for Tom than let him wear the grey clothing given to all the children at the orphanage. They would also need books, and toys. Toiletries that were more appropriate for children as well, Harry didn't know if there were many available in this time, but he would buy whatever they had. Luckily Harry had brought enough galleons with him from his own time for them to live well for as long as Harry was here. The Potter vault had been quite large, but the ridiculous amounts the Ministry had added had nearly doubled his fortune even when he tried to give most of it to Hermione for her to put towards better causes. The first time they had given Harry money was one of his first public meltdowns after the war. He had screamed at the ministry official for giving it to him when there were families that desperately needed this after the war. Reporters had spun it to look like him standing up for the poor rather than just him breaking down.

"I'm ready." A small voice said from behind him and Harry was knocked out of the thoughts he had been lost in. Turning to look at the little boy now clad in a grey sweater and black trousers that looked identical to what he had been wearing just yesterday at the orphanage. Despite the drab clothing the boy still looked adorable, but surely after a wardrobe change they wouldn't be able to go anywhere without people cooing over Tom. 

"We're going to apparate to where we are going. We should be able to find everything in muggle London, I mean regular London." 

Harry knelt down before the boy, resting his hands on his tiny shoulders. Wondering if it was even a good idea to apparate, but it would be hard to park the car anywhere considering how narrow the roads were at this time. Andromeda had taught him a protective spell used for when apparating with children after Harry had thrown a fit the first time she had apparated somewhere with Teddy. It was used generally for children under the age of 11, but Harry couldn't help but mentally curse Dumbledore for not using it when he had apparated with Harry for the first time. 

"Apparating is a magic form of transportation. It's much quicker than walking or using a car. The downside is it feels a bit like sliding through a very narrow tunnel. It might be a little uncomfortable, but don't be afraid I'm right here with you, and I've done it hundreds of times. If you look closely I'm still all in tact. No fingers or toes missing." The last part had been more to make the boy laugh but Tom only looked more concerned as he quickly glanced over Harry's hands and down to his sock clad feet. Harry squeezed the boy's shoulders reassuringly while regretting what he had said. Something like that surely would have made Teddy giggle, but Tom made for a tougher crowd.

"Is it okay if I hold you? That might make it a bit easier." Harry asked. Tom stared at him silently a moment before nodding slowly, taking a step forward so Harry could scoop him up into his arms. He wrapped an arm under Tom's bottom and the other around his back, ensuring that the boy would be comfortable and that he would be able to hold his wand in his hand. He murmured the protective spell first, an almost invisible coat appearing around Tom, who didn't seem to feel it as he simply stared in fascination at Harry. Harry gave him a reassuring nod before they apparated away together. 

The house around them disappeared and Harry felt the now only slightly uncomfortable queasy feeling of being squeezed and warped before just seconds later they appeared in the far back of a small alleyway mid London. 

"Are you alright?" Harry asked the boy whose little face was scrunched up in discomfort. Harry gently ran his hand down the expanse of Tom's back, pulling him in a little closer to his chest. 

"It was so dark." Tom mumbled making Harry grimace. 

"I'm sorry, we should have just taken the car." 

"It's fine." The boy said making Harry feel worse. Tom was still too hesitant to speak up if he didn't like something, for now Harry would just have to make an extra effort to be considerate towards his feelings.

"The shop is just down the street, are you okay to walk?" Harry asked and set the boy on his feet when he nodded in response. He grabbed his hand in his though as they walked out of the alleyway onto the crowded street, squeezing it in reassurance as a car went by them and Tom flinched a little. 

Harry watched from the corner of his eye as Tom looked all around him with fascination, clearly the boy had never been taken out onto the busy streets of London. Harry intended to ask him more about the places they had been, he would take him around to places children generally enjoyed if he hadn't gotten the chance yet, which Harry guessed he hadn't given the conditions of the orphanage. Harry felt a bit better about it after thinking of the reasonably sized donation he had made after adopting Tom, helping speed along the adoption process and hopefully affording the children a bit of a treat. 

As they made it to the children's boutique, Harry held open the door allowing Tom to pass through, keeping it open for the young family exiting. The father thanked Harry and the daughter waved happily from her mother's arms. Harry smiled at the little girl, dipping his head down in a dramatic bow making her giggle. 

Harry looked down to Tom as he entered the shop to see his features contorted into a frown as he stared back. Harry had seen that look before, it was the look Teddy got when someone got more of his attention than Teddy was getting. The look was often accompanied by him clumsily pulling at Harry to get him away from that individual. 

Harry didn't know quite what to do, with Teddy he generally just teased him about it calling him his jealous little cub before peppering his chubby cheeks with kisses until he giggled. With Tom he certainly couldn't do either of those things. The boy would take Harry's teasing all too seriously. He'd likely not be very happy to be kissed since from what Harry had gathered Tom wasn't very used to affection and they had only just met yesterday. 

Luckily a store clerk saved him from having to say anything as she came over and greeted them. Asking if they were looking for anything in particular. 

"We need a bit of everything for the little one I'm afraid." Harry answered, the woman looked all too gleeful at the prospect and cooed at Tom as she reassured Harry they had the best of clothing for children. 

She chattered away about sizes and colors and just about everything a person could say about clothing as she stood by as Harry browsed through the racks of boy's clothing. Holding anything he liked out to Tom, pressing it against him to see how it would look after he had received a nod in response. The boy was either not picky in terms of clothing, or just liked everything. Harry was willing to bet that he was simply not picky. 

Harry couldn't help but splurge a little when everything he held against Tom looked absolutely adorable on him. From all the stuff they had gotten a duckling yellow colored sweater was his favorite. He couldn't wait to see Tom in it, with his big brown eyes it would probably have a similar effect to that of the Disney princess Belle in her gown. Teddy had loved that movie and made them all watch it numerous times. His hair and eyes turning the same brown as Belle from the movie. Hermione had even brought him a Belle costume and the boy had been overjoyed. For that day alone, someone other than Harry had been Teddy's favorite. Harry had soon reclaimed his status by taking Teddy out for ice cream, not one to be bested. 

The shopping for pajamas though was his favorite and probably where he spent the most unnecessary amount of money. The only style they had were button down sets with full sleeves and a collar, but they were made of such soft materials that Harry felt confident they would prove to be comfortable. His favorite, uncharacteristically for him, was a set in slytherin green with white polka dots. The sales clerk even advised him that he wouldn't need so much clothing but Harry couldn't help himself.

He made sure to get Tom a coat that had fur lining within it so the boy would be warm throughout the cold English winter. Tom seemed to like his coat very much, clutching the thick material and running his hands over the fur.

Finally when they were done shopping he carried the heaps of clothing with the help of the woman assisting them to the register. Other sales clerks helped her bag their many items and they offered to help Harry carry it all out but Harry refused. The total for all the items was more than he had expected, but it was in no way close to being a concern for him. 

He somehow managed to grab all the bags, refusing with a smile as Tom offered to help, the sales clerks cooing at what a good boy Tom was. He bid them farewell, and thanked them for their help before leaving with Tom in tow. As soon as they were out Harry sat down on the nearest bench and glanced around to make sure no one was paying attention before shrinking the bags down until he could fit them all into just one. 

"That's a good store, we'll have to remember that one. We managed to find everything there so now we can stop worrying about clothing. On to more fun stuff." Harry said. Grabbing up the bag in one hand and taking Tom's hand in the other. They walked down the street together, hoping to catch sight of a toy or bookstore.

They made it onto the next street before they finally stumbled upon a bookstore. Harry held the door open letting Tom in first, smiling down at the boy as he thanked him before making his own way in. The muggle man standing behind the counter greeted them kindly and told them to ask for help should they need it before going back to the book he seemed to be mending. 

Harry followed Tom to the display of children's books closer to the back of the little store. Shelves upon shelves behind the display contained picture books and small novels with colorful covers. 

"Pick any you like." Harry said to Tom as he himself started browsing through the display. He couldn't help but wish he had brought some of Teddy's books, these all seemed so dull compared to the books Teddy had. Although there was the matter of year of publication which had kept him from bringing even his own favorites back with him. 

Most of these seemed to have religious undertones and Harry wondered whether Tom had practiced anything at the orphanage. Considering the time, it was probable that he did. Harry would have to ask Tom if he would like to continue. He wasn't religious, but if Tom wanted, he could take him to church. 

He was knocked out of his thoughts as a small hand gently tugged on the material of his trousers to get his attention. He looked down to see Tom staring up at him, a book clutched to his chest. Harry bent down to get a closer look. 

"What have you got there?" Harry asked, and the boy turned the book around so he could see the cover. It had a picture of a little boy surrounded by tall trees and grass. It was a much more beautiful cover than the rest of the books. The colors much more vivid, in particular the lush green of the nature. 

"It was my favorite." Tom said and Harry's brows raised of their own accord as he realized the boy was speaking of the orphanage. The Tom Riddle Harry had watched memories of with Dumbledore had seemed to want to eradicate the very existence of his arguably tragic past at the hands of muggles. This boy seemed to have no such intentions. Of course he was much younger, but still Harry couldn't help but draw comparisons. 

"It looks like it's going to be very good. I'll hold on to it for you while you continue looking." Harry said, gently taking the book out of the boy's grasp, stopping when he realized Tom wasn't letting go of it. 

"I can have more?" Tom asked, eyes wide as though Harry had said something particularly astonishing. 

"As many as you'd like." Harry found himself saying remembering what it was like to be given so little that any generosity was a surprise. At this rate he would have to get a job but as he watched the boy quickly hurry back to grab up a few more he had probably decided to put back in favor of the one now in Harry's hands, he couldn't bring himself to care. Harry grabbed those from Tom as well and stood to the side watching as he picked out more books, flipping through the first few pages before tucking it beneath his arm or placing it back carefully. 

Since it seemed like they wouldn't be leaving any time soon, Harry made his way over to a shelf full of regular novels still close enough so that he could clearly see Tom over the shelf. He adjusted the books he was holding so that he had a free hand to pull out some titles that caught his eye. It drove Hermione insane that Harry based his judgement off of titles and covers but she was happy enough to have him reading that she didn't make a fuss of it. 

Harry caught sight of some classics in their first editions that he couldn't help but buy remembering the price of these at his own time. He didn't care enough about editions and book covers, but Hermione would. Come to think of it he probably wouldn't remember to bring them back to his own time in 17 years but he resolved to buy them anyway. This would at least give him the opportunity to read many of these classics Hermione raved about. 

"Mr.Potter." He heard a little voice call and he looked up from where he had his head buried in Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby. His eyes widened as he took in the state of his ward. The boy had dropped all the books he was holding and was running around through the shelves clearly in search of him. 

Harry hurried out of the aisle he was in and made his way to the boy, coming to a stop before him and crouching down to sit on his knees to be at eye level. 

"Where were you?" Tom asked, brows furrowed deeply and little rosebud mouth jutted out in a quivering pout. His big brown eyes reddened and shiny with tears. Harry set the books he was holding aside and took the boy's hands within his own, feeling terrible for having wandered off. 

"Oh little one I was just looking at some books. I'm so sorry. I should have told you before leaving." Harry said quietly. Being met only with silence as the heartbreaking look remained on that little face. 

Harry sighed in regret and pulled the boy in by his hands, wrapping his arms around the tiny body. Holding him close as he rubbed his hand up and down Tom's back. 

"I'm so very sorry." Harry murmured into his ward's ear, holding him a moment longer before pulling back enough so that he could see the boy's face. The tears had fallen down his pale cheeks but otherwise the boy seemed to have calmed down a bit. Harry gently wiped the tears away with his thumbs. He had never been so careless with Teddy, he felt terrible for the way he had treated Tom. This four year old before him was not Voldemort, he was just a child barely out of toddlerhood. Harry would have to get himself used to the idea so that he would never again treat Tom with any less care than he would any other child. 

"I think I saw a sweets shop across the street. Let's buy these books and then we'll go there to get you some candy." The treats were his attempt at an apology. Harry just knew he would end up splurging on those as well to relieve the guilt he was feeling. He'd have to remember to ask Tom to brush his teeth as soon as they got home. Tom didn't need to suffer from cavities just because he was a terrible adult. 

Tom nodded and stepped back to allow Harry to get up off his knees. Harry's chest tightened with guilt again as the boy slipped his small hand into his immediately as he got up off the floor. Gripping his hand as tightly as he could as though afraid Harry would disappear again. 

Harry had to gently pull his hand away from the boy's tight grip so that he could gather the books Tom had dropped. He had the urge to hug the boy again as he watched him wipe clumsily at his eyes with both hands from his peripheral vision. 

He carried the tall teetering stack of books over to the counter the man sat at, feeling Tom grip the material of his trousers tightly since Harry's hands were busy. 

"You've got a little reader there have you?" The shopkeeper asked Harry as he bagged the books for him. 

"It would seem so." Harry responded, glancing down at Tom to see him staring at the man curiously. 

"He must be bright." The man responded with a kind smile towards Tom. 

"He is." Harry said as he handed the man the exact amount he had asked for. He glanced down at Tom as he grabbed the bags of books, seeing a bit of a flush to the boy's face. Harry smiled to himself as he realized Tom was blushing over the compliment. 

"Thanks for your help, have a nice day." Harry said as he walked out the store, hearing the man calling out farewells and for them to come back soon. 

Harry cast a few discreet spells to make the bags light as a feather. Seeing Tom watching the wand he was holding hidden behind the lapel of his coat closely. Teddy often did that too, but Harry usually cast a quick tickling jinx at him when he caught him, another thing he couldn't do to Tom. 

He grabbed Tom's hand from where it gripped his trousers as he led them both across the street after making sure they wouldn't be run over by any cars. They walked into the shop together, immediately being hit with the strong smell of sugar and sweets. Harry looked down at Tom to see the boy looking curiously at the many treats on display around them. Many parents stood within the shop with their young children, trying to bargain with the excited children to get only a treat or two. 

"What's your favorite treat?" He asked Tom. The boy turned his curious gaze back to Harry at the question. 

"Do you like fudge, lollipops, chocolate or taffy?" He asked, naming the few things he could see as he looked around. Teddy loved gummy candy but he couldn't see any of those here. 

"I've only ever had lollipops, they were nice." Tom answered. It was to be expected that at the orphanage they wouldn't be able to afford many treats but it made Harry sad all the same to hear. 

"Well personally I happen to really like chocolate, so how about we buy some of that today, and next time we're out we'll try something else?" Harry asked, and Tom nodded. 

Harry grabbed up a few different bars of chocolate. Personally he wasn't a huge fan of dark chocolate although Andromeda and Hermione loved it. Ron had a taste for white chocolate, but Harry usually stuck to regular milk chocolate. Considering Tom was four and wouldn't appreciate the bitterness of dark, he grabbed mostly milk chocolate and just one bar of white chocolate with dried orange in it since that sounded interesting. He got a bag of lollipops as well since Tom had mentioned that he liked them. 

They waited in line to pay for those, Tom sticking close to Harry and glancing at the screaming children around him from the corner of his eye with a frown. Harry quickly paid for their sweets and rushed Tom out, starting to get a headache from all the noise and becoming hungry from the sticky sweet smell of the place. 

Harry reached into the bag of sweets as soon as they were far away enough from the store to not be able to hear the screaming from within. Shuffling around in it until he found the bar of milk chocolate. It was best to start off with the basics. Harry tore it open, breaking off a row and handing it to Tom, then breaking off one for himself as well. The boy looked at the chocolate in his hand with uncertainly. It did admittedly just look like a hard brown material to anyone who had never had chocolate before so Harry could understand the reaction. 

"Go on, try it. I promise it's very good." Harry urged wanting to see Tom's reaction. The boy bit off a small corner of it, still a little hesitant despite Harry's words of encouragement. 

Harry bit into his own piece as he saw Tom's eyes widen. His heart melting like the chocolate in his hands when he saw a small smile bloom on the boy's face for the very first time.


	5. Chapter 4

Tom crept down the dark hallway, small feet padding softly against the cold hardwood floor. He could just barely make out the house around him, and kept close to the wall to avoid bumping into anything and waking his guardian. 

After two months of living in his new home, Tom had managed to learn about all the nooks and crannies, he even knew about the loose floorboard in the attic. It made for a great hiding place, though the only item he had stored there was his favourite book he had taken from the orphanage when leaving, not having the heart to leave it behind nor to keep it with all the shiny new books he had now.

Every night, hours after his guardian had tucked him into bed, Tom would lie awake listening to Harry Potter make his way around the house until he eventually retired to bed. In the very dead of the night, when not even a single sound besides the hooting of owls could be heard from outside, Tom would creep out of bed to check on his guardian, to ensure he was still there during the night. Tom pushed the slightly ajar door until he could make out the tall thin figure of his guardian laying sprawled on the bed, the frame of his glasses askew on his face and glinting in the little moonlight that shone through the windows. 

Satisfied now that he had seen Harry was asleep in his room, Tom turned to head back to his room, eyes widening as the floor creaked beneath his shifting weight. He froze where he was, remembering what happened to the older boys back at the orphanage if they were caught out of bed. Five lashes on each palm, and though Tom had never gotten a lash, he had seen the red welts on the other boys' hands and heard their muffled screams through the closed door. 

"Tom is that you?" The sleep deepened voice of his guardian asked quietly, ringing out in the silence of the dark still house. Though Harry had posed it as a question, Tom could feel the weight of those bright green eyes on him, a gentle prickling sensation that made the thin hair at the back of his neck stand up. 

He turned slowly, eyes cast down, expecting to receive his very first punishment since his arrival in this home. His heart skipped a beat in his chest as he wondered if perhaps his misbehavior would cause for Harry to reconsider his decision to adopt Tom. Perhaps this was his very last night in this house, his last night with Harry Potter. Though the fear at the very idea of being returned to the orphanage turned the blood in his veins to ice, Tom looked up straight at his guardian, wanting to get as much of a look as he could at the brilliance of those green eyes in case he never got a chance to see them again.

Even through the dark he could make them out very clearly, shining in the dark like the pence one of the other boys he had shared a room with had once brought back from outside. 

"Come here." Harry beckoned, sitting up in his bed now, a single flick of his hand lighting up the candle at his bedside. 

Tom could see his guardian clearly now; he wore light blue flannel pyjamas now instead of the dress shirt and pants he had on when he had tucked Tom into bed earlier on in the night. His midnight black hair was somehow even more dishevelled than usual, tan skin lit up in the warm glow of the candle, orange flame reflected in his eyes. 

Tom walked closer slowly, well aware he might be walking right into his punishment. He could only hope to be lashed instead of being cast away. He had spent two months behaving as well as he could, never asking for things or making a mess in fear that Harry Potter would decide he was more trouble than he was worth, and now he had ruined it by being too careless. He should have paid more attention, been quieter, not been so close to the door. 

"Did you have a nightmare love?" Harry asked, deep voice soft and gentle as Tom had ever heard it. Tom simply stared back at his guardian unblinkingly. No one had ever asked him that. The nurses had never felt a need to considering he had never had a bedwetting problem like some of the other boys. The nurses would scold them for wetting their beds while having a nightmare and punish them by making them go without breakfast the next morning. 

"A nightmare is a scary dream; did you see something frightening and come here because you were scared?" 

Harry had mistaken his silence for him simply not knowing what a nightmare was. Though he knew what it was, he didn't know whether it was wise to lie and say he had one or not. 

Seeming to take his silence for an answer, Harry pushed back the comforter he was lying under and patted the space beside him with one hand. Tom crawled up, ending up with his legs folded underneath him after he managed to get onto the high mattress. It was firmer than his own that felt like a cloud beneath him and his own bed had many more blankets than Harry's did. 

Harry wrapped an arm around him and pulled him in closer until he was lying close to his side, legs tucked up against Harry's firm stomach. Harry kept his arm around him and with the other pulled the comforter back on them, tucking it in close against Tom's back, the soft heavy material still warm with Harry's body heat. Tom glanced up at his guardian from where he was tucked beneath his arm to see him already looking down at him, having taken off his glasses at some point to reveal those green eyes in all their radiance without anything to obscure them. 

"You're safe here with me love." Harry mumbled reassuringly and Tom pushed closer into him, straightening his legs so he could get close enough to be completely pressed into Harry's side. Wanting to be as close as he possibly could to his guardian. Though his own bed had many more blankets, and Harry cast a heating charm on it every night before he left, Tom had never felt so warm in his entire life. The warmth seemed to seep deep into him through his clothes, past his skin, filling into the emptiness he felt inside of himself. Filling it with this warmth that Tom felt could rival Harry's eyes in its brightness. 

"Comfortable?" Harry asked. His voice sounding as it did when he spoke through a smile, Tom lifted his face from where it was pushed against Harry's side to get a look at his guardian before giving a little nod. Harry really was smiling, red lips quirked up a little more on one side than the other as they always were when Harry found something Tom did amusing. Most of the time Tom had no idea why what he was doing was funny, but he liked seeing that smile and so he felt no need to stop. 

A large hand came to rest on the back of his head and gently guided it until his face was resting on Harry's shoulder so that he no longer had to crane his neck to look at him. The hand stayed there, a warm weight on his head and fingernails began to gently scratch at his scalp. 

"Go to sleep Tom, I'm right here." Harry said quietly, and Tom closed his eyes, falling asleep faster than he ever had before wrapped up in the warm embrace of his guardian and with the certainty that Harry would not leave during the night.


	6. Chapter 5

Harry could feel himself slowly rousing to consciousness, becoming ever more aware of his surroundings, the sunlight that turned the back of his closed eyelids red, the birds chirping outside and ever more persistently the little fingers playing with his hair. 

He had to fight to keep the smile off his face as a little palm pressed insistently over the wild tendrils of hair he knew were sure to be sticking up every which way in an effort to make them lie flat. 

"Any luck?" Harry asked without opening his eyes, feeling the tiny body draped over his chest jerk in surprise, hands quickly retracting. 

Harry opened his eyes to look into a wide chocolate brown pair staring back at him. Tom looked as surprised as Harry had ever seen him, eyes so wide Harry worried they'd pop out, and mouth forming a perfect o. Chuckling Harry reached his own hand up to his hair, feeling around to get an idea of the state it was in without having to get up or summon a mirror. Although there was no way anyone in their right mind would classify it as neat, Tom had forced most of the strands to at the very least stick up in relatively the same direction. To be honest it was a pretty great first attempt. The only one to have ever had more success was Hermione, but she had practice from dealing with her own difficult hair and magic on her side. 

"To be honest it's much better than anything I've ever been able to do with it." 

Tom still looked as though he was expecting to be scolded terribly. Despite it having been two months living with him, Tom didn't seem to yet understand that Harry wasn't going to punish him for simply being a child, he seemed to try his very best to not behave like one. He'd given Harry absolutely no reason to even minorly discipline him. Even if he had, as Teddy sometimes did, Harry could never bring himself to yell at Teddy, let alone lay a hand on him, and neither would he to Tom. Harry would much rather have a talk with him, and if the supposed infraction was very grave then perhaps a time out, or a tedious chore would be dealt out. 

Harry knew the look Tom was giving him all too well though, as a child raised by Vernon and Petunia Dursley who had never spoken kindly to him and resorted to explosive yelling and abuse over the most minor of inconveniences, Harry had often looked at his teachers and other adults that way. It broke his heart to see that look on a child just barely out of toddlerhood. 

"Next time we have to go somewhere I might have to ask you to do my hair. Not even fancy magic potions have done as well as you just did. Let me look at those fingers, are they magic?" Harry asked, grabbing Tom's hands and examining them dramatically closely. Wiggling each little finger and making silly faces until he heard a quiet giggle escape the boy. 

"Have you been awake long love?" Harry asked, failing to stifle a yawn as he grabbed his wand and cast a quick tempus charm to see the time. Tom shook his head. 

"Did you want to talk about your nightmare?" Harry asked, only now remembering why his ward had slept in his bed in the first place. He received another shake of the head and so he let it go. He only hoped it was something minor like a character from one of the books Harry read to him and not something or someone from the orphanage causing these night terrors. 

"Let's have some breakfast then, shall we?" Harry asked, getting out of bed and swinging Tom up onto his hip as he walked out of the room. The boy had thankfully put on some weight in the past few weeks, but he still looked a bit small for his age, hopefully with time Tom would begin to grow taller. Other children found strange reasons to be cruel, Harry himself had been bullied for being on the shorter scrawny side as a child. 

Harry carried Tom down the stairs and into the kitchen, before depositing him into a chair at the table. Refreshing the height charm on it so the table would reach his elbows and not Tom's eyes. He filled the kettle with water before setting it up on the stove to heat. He let out a yawn as he threw some bacon and breakfast potatoes onto the rapidly melting butter in the pan before cracking a few eggs into it to make a proper fry up. Harry had noticed Tom didn't seem to really like beans, perhaps he had them at the orphanage a little too much and had gotten sick of them. Though Tom had never voiced the dislike himself, he ate whatever Harry gave him without complaining. It made Harry all the more sensitive to Tom's reactions to what was put in front of him, so he could learn his likes and dislikes even if the boy himself never spoke them out loud. 

He fixed himself up a cup of tea as the pan dished its contents out into two plates, stirring in just half a spoon of honey to the tea. Harry sent the plates floating gently towards the table, unable to resist smiling as he saw Tom straighten up to look at the plates coming his way. Despite it having been two months, Tom still was ever so intrigued by magic, he seemed to perk up at even the smallest of spells. Harry had bought him some toys, but he was much more entertained watching Harry do mundane tasks around the house using magic. To indulge him, every evening Harry would show him some simple spells, watching Tom's little face light up, eyes hungry to absorb all he could about this new world. 

Harry carried his cup over and settled down across from Tom. He summoned the pitcher of milk and poured Tom a glass, sipping on his own cup of tea but gesturing for Tom to dig in. Harry blew on the tea lightly, he could cast a minor cooling charm but he liked the smell of the steam that rose from the tea, and so happily dealt with the burnt tongue he got every morning from getting impatient and taking a sip while it was still too hot. He wrapped his hands around the delicate fine china cup, the heat warming up his hands and making his eyes lidded with sleep. 

He took a sip of his tea, burning his tongue but took a few more sips regardless, glancing up at Tom idly to see the boy staring ever so intently at the cup cradled within his hands. Harry set it down gently, watching as Tom's eyes followed the movement of the cup and the boy straightened his spine stiff to get a peak at the contents of the cup. 

Harry put a forkful of eggs and potatoes into his mouth to repress his smile, biting down into a crispy strip of bacon watching Tom be so entranced by the tea. Tom always seemed to watch Harry and the things he did very closely, but Harry hadn't seen him focus on his tea like this before. 

"Would you like to try some?" Harry asked after taking a sip to ensure it had cooled down enough to not burn. 

Tom glanced up at him in surprise at being caught, before giving a small tentative nod of his head in response. Harry handed the cup to him carefully, ensuring he had a proper grasp of it before pulling away. A little endeared by how large the small cup seemed when in Tom's tiny hands. 

Tom stared down at the reddish brown liquid as it sloshed around gently in the cup. Leaning down close to it and sniffing at it subtly, Harry bit down on his lip to keep in a chuckle. Watching patiently as the boy took a small sip, his little face seeming to scrunch up in response to the relatively bitter liquid. Tom glanced up at Harry with his brows furrowed as though perplexed as to why Harry was drinking this leaf water with such relish. 

Harry couldn't help but laugh at that expression, and leaned forward to grab his teacup in one hand and gently pinch Tom's soft cheek with the other. 

"Maybe we'll have you try it again when you're a bit older. I probably should have added more honey for you. It's too bitter huh?" Harry asked getting a fervent nod in response making him want to pinch Tom's round cheek again. He couldn't imagine how Tom would react to coffee.

Harry summoned a bar of white chocolate over and broke a piece off for Tom, offering it to him as both a palate cleanse and apology for putting the poor little one through that.

"I've been meaning to speak to you about something." Harry said after a few bites of his breakfast. Tom froze with a forkful of eggs halfway to his mouth. The little color he had in his cheeks draining and leaving him looking pale. 

"It's nothing too serious, don't worry Tom." Harry said, not knowing what was going through the child's mind, but it was clearly nothing good. 

"You're turning five soon and I was thinking that we should get you enrolled into a school so you can start next fall." Harry said making the boy's brows furrow in confusion. 

"But you teach me at home." He said. 

"Well I do but I'm no teacher, it would be good for you to get a proper education. You're so bright I have no doubts that you'll do very well." Harry said, surprised Tom had a problem with it. With his curiosity and thirst for knowledge Harry had thought he would be excited at the prospect of starting school. 

"Will you come with me?" Tom asked making Harry huff out a laugh. 

"No Tom I'm afraid I'm a bit too old for first grade and I've already been when I was your age." 

"I don't want to go if you won't come with me." Tom said, putting his fork down and staring up at Harry with his face in a determined but upset pout. 

"Love you have to go to school, it's very important that you get a basic education and understanding of all the subjects before you go off to Hogwarts. I'll drop you off and pick you up everyday, we'll spend the rest of the day together." 

"Is it a magic school?" Tom asked. 

"No, it'll be a muggle school, your magical education will start when you're 11." 

"You can teach me, I promise I'll learn everything you tell me to just don't send me away." Tom said, his big brown eyes starting to well up. Harry immediately got up and went around to where Tom sat. Turning the boy's chair towards him so he was facing Harry as he kneeled before him, taking his hands in his. 

"I'm not sending you away silly. It's just school, it'll be just a few hours a day, five days a week. You'll see me in the mornings and when you get home and even on the weekends, not to mention school holidays. You'll get to learn all this interesting stuff and tell me all about it when you get home." 

"I don't want to." Tom said, a tear dropping from his glassy eyes and making its way down his soft pale cheek, leaving a silver trail in its wake. Harry cupped his face, wiping off the tear with his thumb and gently rubbing at the apple of Tom's cheek reverently. 

"It's not right now, it's months away. I promise you'll love it once you start." 

"But I don't want to leave you." 

"You're not going to leave me silly, just go to school for a couple hours a few days a week. You'll get to meet other children your age and make friends that will be loads more fun than an old man like me." 

"I don't want to make friends, I only want Harry." Tom said petulantly, Harry not having witnessed this kind of behavior from the boy ever before unable to decide on how to react. He hated that he had to force him to do this, but school was important. Tom had to have some positive experiences with muggles so he wouldn't be affected by the hatred the purebloods he would meet at Hogwarts harbored for them. And Harry wasn't lying about the educational bit, Hogwarts taught only magical subjects, it would be good to have an understanding of the rest as well. 

"You have me love, I'm right here, even when you start school which again is months from now, so far away I can't see it even with my glasses on, you'll still have me. So stop worrying, if you give it a try and really don't like it maybe we can figure something out, okay?" Harry asked, knowing he was being too soft but hating seeing that sad look on Tom's face. 

Harry wrapped his arms around the boy, pulling him into his chest, rubbing his back gently. Feeling his heart warm as the boy cuddled in closer, little hands gripping at Harry's shirt tightly. Though he hadn't considered it when he said it, truly if Tom hated going to school and was as upset as he was now, Harry would most likely give in and take him out. But at the very least he wanted him to try it. He didn't know why he was so terrified at the prospect, perhaps he thought it would be similar to the orphanage but Harry was going to send Tom to a good school where he would be well cared for and hopefully make some friends. From what Harry gathered from the little Tom had said about the orphanage and what he remembered from when Dumbledore had showed him his memory, Tom had no friends. 

"You've nothing to worry about Tom, I'll be outside your school waiting for you every single day. I promise okay? In fact I pinky promise." Harry said, pulling away, Tom still gripped his shirt but allowed him to pull back enough to look at his face. 

"What's that?" Tom asked, still pouting unhappily but too curious to maintain his silence. 

"You connect pinkies together, and that makes the promise binding." Harry explained, holding his pinky out towards Tom. The boy reluctantly letting go of him to connect his pinky with his, allowing Harry to wrap his around the boy's small finger. 

"So it can't be broken?" Tom asked, looking up at Harry with big beseeching eyes. Harry nodded. 

"Promise you'll always stay with me." Tom said. Harry felt his heart sink, he couldn't honestly promise such a thing to Tom. This wasn't his time, there were people waiting for his return back in his own world. He'd never intended forever, besides Tom wouldn't need him that long. Harry would be here to raise him and show him love and support before he returned to his own time to ensure Tom would never become the monster Harry had known him to be. "I promise I'll be here every time you return from school. Now finish your breakfast, be a good boy." Harry said, forcing a smile on his face. He ruffled Tom's hair, turning to go back to his side of the table, not seeing the way the boy frowned as his back turned, catching the careful way Harry had phrased his sentence.


End file.
